One Of Us
by TheCatalystx
Summary: Set prior to the events of S1. This is a story about Jolene Argent. Her family abandoned her, left her with one instruction: infiltrate the Hales. She's Derek's classmate, and up to now, because of their families they were sworn enemies. But then she was bitten and everything changed. Now, she's just trying to figure out who to trust. Derek/OC
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Death draws a crowd. It is the single loneliest thing in life, and yet nothing attracts more attention than death. It brings even the most unlikely of people together.

Why else would I be back here, so many years later, after I swore I'd never come back? Death changes everything.

I stared down at the gruesome scene before me. A woman, pale and lifeless, torn from life too early. Torn, in fact, in half. Her eyes were milky from decomposition. The chill in the air had preserved her more than I would have expected, thanks to the looming winter which was only a month or so away.

My throat was tight with grief, my eyes and nose burning with unshed tears. _Oh, Laura._ I sighed. Behind me, a twig snapped, and my face went blank. A tall figure stood some distance away.

Derek. He looked at me, his face inscrutable. "Jolene." His tone was clipped.

"Derek," I said, and felt a bit of pride at how strong and unaffected my voice was, despite the fact my heart hammered heavily in my chest. I shifted to block Laura from his view. Even though he looked cold and detached, the sight of his sister undoubtedly twisted the knife deeper into his already deep, irreparable wounds. "Have you always been this confrontational?"

"I know what you're thinking." He brought his hands out of the pockets of his leather jacket, his shoulders broader than I remember and his posture more rigid. Possibly from maturity, grief, or my general presence. He'd certainly changed from the cocky, self-assured teen I grew up with.

I considered his words, letting my eyes scan the woods around us with a mocking thoughtful expression. "Mind reading, Derek? That's a new one to add to the list."

His face flickered at the reference. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone. "It wasn't me."

At first I thought he meant Laura, and I recoiled defensively. "Derek—" I started, Laura's whitewashed form watching me from below—and then it hit me. _Oh. That._ "Oh. That."

His nostrils flared. Apparently annoyed, he fixed me with a disapproving glower. "So you weren't thinking about it."

Instead of responding, I turned my back on him and looked down at his sister. "We need to talk."

* * *

**Beacon Hills, 2002.**

"Oh, God, Jo—would you _look_ at them?" Drawled a low, thirsty voice. Jolene eyed her cousin.

"Kate, control yourself. Before someone tips off the sheriff that there's a predator in their midst."

Kate barked a sharp laugh. An amused, ironic grin rolled across her face. "Predator? Imagine that. In Beacon Hills, at a varsity basketball game." She unabashedly eyed the teenage boys on the court. "If only these people knew how vulnerable they were..."

A woman nearby was clearly pretending not to overhear. She side-eyed them and her grip crushed her large soft pretzel.

Jolene stifled a sigh. "You can at least wait to drool and moan until after he's been cleared." On the wooden court, a player was down. A referee held his leg steady, applying pressure to his thigh as they tested the limb. The stands were respectfully quiet and Jolene could see an older couple leaning forward anxiously. They looked ready to dart straight down and check on who must have been their injured son.

Beside the player in question stood three boys. Derek Hale, Kurt Konner, and Josiah Nichols. The golden trio. Josiah lifted his shirt up to wipe the sweat from his brow, exposing his dark skinned, fit abdomen, and Kate nearly purred beside her.

"Seriously, _how_ is a girl to choose?"

"Ugh." Jolene couldn't keep the disgust from her face, her lip curling. "You know they're at least six years younger than you, right?" Kate looked like she was about to comment something biting, but before she could Jolene added, "If you were a man I don't think I could stand to be near you. I should report you myself."

Though Jolene was obviously bluffing, Kate didn't seem to appreciate the hollow threat. She got back at her in the surest way she knew how. "I'm only looking out for you. You know what you have to do, right? You have to _choose_ one."

"Hmph." Jolene settled on that as her response and sat back with an indignant huff. "Can't we just tell Gerard that it's Derek? I mean, what doubt is there, really?"

"What, and ruin the best part?" Kate looked like that was the last thing she would ever consider doing and a pleased smile blossomed across her cheeks. "In fact... why don't you be a dear and go offer a hand? Or better yet, a good luck kiss."

Derek had helped to gather his injured teammate from the floor. He grabbed his arm and hoisted him up on wobbly feet, and before his teammate could so much as stumble he took him under his wing and guided him off the sidelines.

A smattering of applause quietly rippled through the crowd and Kate pushed Jolene to stand as Derek and Tony made their way to the exit.

"Hurry!" Kate insisted.

Jolene stamped down the dread in her chest—not sure if it came from the fact that she hated being told what to do, the fact that it came from Gerard directly, or the fact that it dealt with Derek.

"Jo!"

Jolene stopped her descent to level a glare at her inconsistent cousin. "What?" She snapped.

Kate simply smirked. "I'll want _all_ the dirty details." She wasn't just referring to any flirting that might happen, and Jolene knew it.

Jolene huffed and quickly took the stairs two at a time. She jogged around the cheerleaders, giving a high-five to Caroline as she passed. The blonde, peppy girl bounced at Jolene's retreating form. "Good to see you sharing the school spirit, Argent!"

"Caroline, please," Jolene drawled. "I _love_ basketball. Go Knicks!"

Caroline eyed another cheerleader knowingly. "Mmmhm," She simply hummed, glancing at the fit athletes behind her. The girls giggled.

"Rogers!" Jolene called as she burst out the gymnasium doors. The smell of popcorn wafted from the concession stand and she had to dodge the long line to wave an arm and make sure they heard her.

Derek and Tony paused from making their way over to the medical office. Tony stumbled on his bum leg, and came close to tipping too far in the wrong direction until Derek righted him.

An unmasked look of distaste and impatience aimed just for Jolene came from Derek.

"Jo, hey," Tony breathed. He was clearly making an effort to downplay the amount of pain he was in. Though his face was tight from suppressing a grimace, his left leg trembled from the pressure of standing in one spot for so long. "Wha—uh, what's goin' on?"

He shifted and leaned more into Derek, his eyes flickering uncertainly to the side. Derek not-so-subtly cocked an impatient eyebrow, but otherwise offered no comment.

Jolene slipped into her bashful, concerned, innocent girl-next-door role cast by Gerard like a comfortable old sweater. "Well, I—I mean, I just wanted to help. I saw what happened and…"

Tony's eyes lit from within, while Derek looked like he wasn't buying it for a second. "Argent, go back to the stands. I've got it from here".

"Uh, are you sure, Derek?" But the question didn't come from Jolene. In a comment that caught not only Derek, but to a certain degree, Jolene, by surprise—it was Tony who seemed to want to take advantage of the situation. "I mean, I'm sure you'd be way more helpful on the court instead of walking me up to the nursery."

"Nursery?" Jolene snorted at the unexpected nickname for the medical office.

Derek ignored her. "I'm just doing what coach asked," He tried.

"Coach would definitely appreciate you on the _court_," insisted Tony.

Derek blinked slowly in annoyance. Then, a mask of disinterest slipped in place and he smiled casually. "Well, if you two need some time alone, who am I to stand in your way?"

He started around Jolene, just narrowly missing catching her with his shoulder, and Jolene was sure to make a show of sagging under Tony's weight. Tony almost tried to pull away from her completely, but that backfired, and as they over corrected, Tony collapsed with a huff.

Derek had hardly made it four steps. He turned, fixed an accusing glare at Jolene, and then another at Tony. Jolene couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard Derek mutter _idiots_ under his breath as he went to retrieve his friend from he ground.

"Are you always this—" Jolene came up short, exchanging a glance with Tony that seemed to suggest she was second-guessing the line of questioning altogether. "Helpful?"

Derek glowered at her for a moment before the dark look cleared from his face. He sighed heavily and rubbed a hand over his face. "Sorry," He said, which threw Jolene for a loop. "It's just—this game, it's one of the only opportunities I had left to make an impression before the scouts start showing up, which is my best shot at college and—" He trailed off.

Jolene felt a true flood of guilt wash over her now. That, she most certainly understood. Her features sharpened before her carefully curated mask fell back into place. "Then go."

Derek didn't expect that.

Tony, surprisingly, had made it back to his feet and leaned against the wall. He nodded in agreement and waved him off. "Seriously, Derek, I think we've got it from here. Tell coach the only way to make it up to me is to sub you in. It should've been you out there, not me. I don't know why he's been such a dick to you lately. You're the best this school has seen in years."

Derek didn't expect that either. His eyes slipped almost imperceptibly to Jolene, who fixed him with a deceptively calculated stare that was outwardly curious. He didn't elaborate about what Tony meant and he didn't thank him or say another word. He simply nodded, and returned to the final quarter of the game.

"You know, I was just practicing my best walking-cane impression earlier this week," Jolene joked, turning to Tony now that they were alone. "Can I show you what I've come up with so far?"

After a brief moment of fumbling, they figured out a way that was the least awkward for her to support his weight. She supposed he might have expected a little less support, if his sigh of relief was anything to go by, as she allowed him to lean more into her.

"What did you mean when you said it should have been Derek out there? You act like you're not a good player," she baited.

Tony choked out a laugh. "Oh, it's not that. It's just that Derek is on a whole other level. Dude can windmill like it's a warm up."

"Wind-mill?" Jolene scrunched her nose.

"Yeah, you know—its where you dunk and you—" He made an explosive noise with his mouth as he waved his arm forward like a windmill and pretended to slam his hand into a rim. "He totally shows off at practice, but even coach had to admit his crossovers are basically… supernatural."

"Supernatural, huh?" Jolene smirked and filed that away. "What I was really getting at, is that you shouldn't sell yourself short. I've also heard that scouts might be coming to see you too. Aren't you in the lead with assists this season?"

Tony's chest swelled. "Well… I guess, technically, if you don't count the last game."

_So, no then._ Jolene had fabricated the compliment on a whim and she had a feeling she had missed the mark, but Tony didn't pass the chance to brag and make himself look better. Jolene supplied the perfect girly giggle and touched his shoulder. "See? So let's get you to the medical office to get patched up, that way you don't have to miss the next game and lose that streak."

* * *

"A double agent. You... want me to be... a double agent?"

"Or _Argent_, if you prefer," Kate quipped. Gerard shot her a look and the amusement on her face sobered. She cleared her throat. "Trust us. This is going to work."

Jolene slowly shook her head. "How, exactly?"

Gerard crossed the garage. He went to the wall and revealed the hidden arsenal there. Everyone was quiet as they watched him peruse the selection. Shotguns, he passed over easily. Rifles and crossbows. For a moment he doubled back to the rifle. But then he reached forward and slid a black box across the top of the metal table.

"One of my favorite fables is called Belling the Cat." Under the lights of the garage, the silver weapon gleamed. Gerard considered Jolene carefully. "Are you familiar?"

It was far from the first time Gerard had brought up his fables. They were his favorite way of making a point. Jolene thought he could benefit from being a bit more direct, herself, but now wasn't the time to think about that. "No," she admitted.

"There once was a group of mice. A counsel, if you will. They met to discuss how they could handle their most dangerous enemy: the cat. Everyday, the cat encroached on their territory, claiming more and more victims. They wondered how they could outwit the beast. Some said this, and some said that; but at last a young mouse got up and said he had a proposal to make, which he thought would meet the case. 'You will all agree,' he said, 'that our chief danger consists in the sly and treacherous manner in which the enemy approaches us. I venture, therefore, to propose that a small bell be procured, and attached by a ribbon around the neck of the Cat. By this means we should always know when she is about.'

He held the gun aloft. "You will be our bell."

"Me?" She said, at a loss for words. Gerard motioned for her to take the gun. She did, and he turned to the SUV. Suddenly, everybody filed out of the room without a word. Jolene's mouth felt dry and she realized she was about to undergo another _test_.

Gerard opened the door of the SUV and leaned in. The trunk popped, and he circled around to the back. The door lifted with a hiss and at first nothing happened.

Then, a snarl. A hulking figure came bolting out of the back of the SUV. Gerard deftly stepped out of the way and Jolene made a noise of surprise as she lifted the weapon on instinct. The safety flicked off and the man-no, beast of a man came to a skidding halt at the noise. He was slick with sweat. Blood stained his shirt and there was a large tear across the chest, but the skin underneath was healed.

He panted heavily.

Gerard planted a hand on his back and shoved the man forward as hard as he could. He watched with an almost excited expression as the werewolf closed in on his niece, and a gunshot rang out at the same time the man lunged.

It all happened very quickly then. They landed in a tangled heap. Jolene cried out loudly at the sharp pain in her neck and she shot the gun into the man's chest again. He shuddered out a wet, loud cough and Jolene panicked as she tried to get out from underneath his crushing weight—unable to tell what was causing her so much pain but knowing it could be nothing good.

"Jolene!"

It was Kate's voice. She had never sounded so desperate, so worried. With a violent motion, the man was ripped from over top her and Kate quickly took his place. She loomed over Jolene and for a moment she froze. _Blood_, there was so much _blood_.

Kate tore off her button down shirt that hung open and pressed it to Jolene's neck. "Did—did you—did she-"

"Yes," Gerard said with an almost gleeful twinkle in his eyes. He stood, sure and tall over the two of them as the werewolf was carted away by the other men. "Trust me, Kate."

"_Trust_ you?!" She shrilly screamed. "You could have just murdered her!"

Jolene felt a surge of energy at that and Kate pushed her back down with trembling hands. "I'm too young to die," She moaned, and in another situation it would have been a joke, but just this minute she meant it _literally_. She was. Too young.

"Exactly," Gerard agreed. "You're young and resilient. You will overcome this. You will survive, of that I've no doubt in my mind."

"And for what?" Kate hissed. "She might survive this, but even if she does she'll—she'll be-" Kate gulped desperately. "Her family will never!..."

"True, and everyone knows it. The Hales know better than anyone the lengths we go to destroy their kind. Jolene will be working for us—but they will never know."

"I had no idea, please. Jolene. You have to believe me." Kate all but sobbed as she watched her youngest cousin go from sheet white to all but lifeless under her hand. "I never t-thought he would..."

Jolene's hand grasped Kate's tightly. "Don't leave me," she pled.

Kate shook her head as tears swam in her vision. "Shhh," She soothed, and rocked as she helped to staunch the bleeding that poured from Jolene's neck. "Shhhh."


	2. Chapter 2

"The hardest part will be Peter," Kate was saying. It took all night and most of the morning to stop the bleeding and patch her up. The stitches ached and her neck felt hot under all the bandages. Of course, the floral scarf didn't help in that department.

"He's smarter than he lets on," Kate continued, and Jolene watched on auto-pilot as her cousin swept around her room and gathered Jolene's things to stuff into the large black bag. "God knows that man is charming, but you have to watch him. _Never_ underestimate him. Are you listening?"

Jolene's eyes were unfocused and she blinked. Kate stood in front of the desk pressed into the corner of her room. Kate gestured impatiently around the room. "Where's the rest of your stuff? I told you a car is waiting to take us to the motel out front."

The closet didn't have anything hanging. Not yet, anyway. Jolene hadn't even really gotten that far. She was planning to decorate more, but every weekend was preplanned by her family to train and she found she barely had time for homework, let alone picking out what color comforter to put on the bed.

"Um—" Jolene had to clear her throat to get her voice to work. "I—I think that's everything." It was still hoarse, probably because she'd been _mauled_ not seven hours prior, and she tugged awkwardly at the scarf on her neck.

"What?" Kate lifted the bag and it was visibly light. "This can't be everything. There's maybe six changes of clothes in here—"

"I was waiting for our shopping trip," Jolene muttered defensively, and Kate, for the first time all day, went quiet.

It was almost evening now, and Jolene had missed a full day of classes. And her Spanish test. "Crap." Kate's arms dropped to her side, the bag along with them. "I forgot. I'm sorry, sweetie."

Jolene looked away and shook her head, then hissed at the motion. She tugged again at the scarf and took a hot breath. "Don't be. It's been—busy."

"Are you okay?" Kate's face was clouded with worry, and guilt, and she pressed a hand to her forehead. "God, stupid question! I just… I mean… are you?"

"I'm fine, it's just… have you talked to mom?" Jolene tried hard to not let her voice sound as small as it did.

Kate's face shuttered. She cleared her throat and glanced away, grabbing the strap in two hands as she turned to take another look around the room and make sure nothing was missed. "She can't be reached right now, Jolene. You know that."

But Jolene doubted that was true. At the moment, her mom was supposedly somewhere in Europe, deep into a mission to uncover what was apparently the most dangerous pack of werewolves to date. Beacon Hills had a fair share of werewolves, but Jolene was told that the Hales were nothing compared to what her mother was taking on. Privately, Jolene had jested that it must have been a pack of alphas for all the secrecy and emphasis her family had placed on it.

Somehow, Jolene thought it was likely her mother knew _exactly_ what had happened last night. She may have even known before it happened. Who knows how much of his plans Gerard shares with those he chooses. Kate is too protective of her where her parents are concerned.

"Maybe I could try to call her—"

"Jolene," Kate's voice was hard and had a note of finality. "Its not possible. You know that. You're going to have to get used to coping on your own, now."

"_Now?_" Jolene mocked before she could stop herself. Her eyes pricked and she felt her face grow hot. Kate paused at that, but before she could further comment, the bedroom door pushed open.

Gerard stood in the doorway. Jolene sucked in a steadying breath and pushed her hair from her face, rising to stand beside Kate. Gerard gestured for them to follow him into the hall. "Time is running, short, I'm afraid," He told them. "We have to take you to your new room now."

He laid a hand on Jolene's shoulder and she tried not to grimace at the smile he flashed her. He must have thought it was encouraging, but to Jolene it just looked menacing, like he was baring his teeth at her.

"Your mother is so proud," He told her, giving her back a hearty pat.

Kate pretended not to notice as Jolene shot her a sideways look. "You talked to mom?"

"She's very confident that you are exactly what we need to finally get a step ahead." Gerard led the charge, and Jolene had the distinct feeling of being herded as three tall men fell into step behind Kate to join them on the way outside. "I'm inclined to agree."

"Well, it was your idea, right?" Jolene said. It was the closest she had ever come to openly accusing her uncle of anything, but after what they'd put her through she couldn't quite bring herself to care. Kate froze, her hand on the handle of the passenger side door of the SUV.

"_My_ idea?" Gerard raised an eyebrow, unfazed, almost like he could laugh at the suggestion, and suddenly, Jolene knew what he was about to say. "Oh, no, this was your mother's suggestion."

The world around her seemed to grow faint. She felt her heart drop and then pick up at a mad dash. The orange, blazing sky around them spun and she placed a hand against the warm black metal of the vehicle to keep from swaying.

"—honestly impressed lately, I… You know, I wasn't going to tell you this, but it might be good for you to know." Gerard took Jolene by the elbow. "I've started to consider that we could really use your mother's insight on the situation. Up close, I mean."

Her heart soared and she heard a gasp beside her. She ignored Kate and kept her gaze trained intently on Gerard. "You mean—"

"It is merely a thought I had," Gerard abated. "But a thought that is occurring more often as of late. I will consider it more, but if a decision is made, you will be the first to know."

A genuine feeling of inspiration hit her then. Something hard, deep and hidden in her chest warmed, like the feeling when blood rushes a limb that had lost circulation for far too long. It prickled and stung but at least it was a feeling. At least it was _something_.

She could do this. Jolene squared her shoulders and plainly ignored the hesitant expression Kate wore beside them. "Let's go," she said, and opened the door eagerly. Gerard gave a pleased chuckle and patted Jolene's shoulder as he helped her into the back seat.

"Yes," He agreed. "Let's."

* * *

The next day, Jolene sat at the free clinic and hated every necessary second of it. Dark green sweatpants hung from her hips and a baggy sweatshirt with the hood pulled up hid the majority of her bandaged neck as she waited under the harsh, flickering lights of the waiting room.

A kid squalled and squirmed fiercely in his mother's arms. The woman looked just as tired and unhappy as her child, and she insistently chased his face back and forth as she tried to wipe a trail of snot from his upper lip.

Jolene reached out for a toy on the table and began to rattle it. A musical sound erupted and it was barely loud enough to be audible over the dull roar of the chaotic medical office, but the child's sobs subsided long enough for the woman to capture her child's nose with a tissue.

The woman relaxed and flashed a polite smile that fell nearly as soon as it appeared.

The waiting room door opened. Cora Hale emerged, her dark hair swept into a neat ponytail and the jacket she wore emblazoned with the school's team mascot on the back. A swim team jacket, to be exact. And since the season was about to start for the summer, the Argents had planned it perfectly.

No one told her how, but they were able to not only locate the clinic that Cora would use, but also the exact day and time of the appointment her yearly physical would be. And it just so happened to be tonight. Which was why last night, they planned for Jolene to get bitten, so that today, she could go to the clinic for treatment and—

She stood from her seat and made a show of trying to distance herself from the screeching baby. It really wasn't a difficult act, since it really was grating her already frayed nerves. She rushed across the floor and ran straight into a nurse.

The woman dropped her clipboard but at the last second she had turned in just such a way that she jostled Jolene's bandaged neck. Jolene allowed herself to cry out with the wave of pain that crashed against her, as her hood fell and revealed her face.

Cora had turned from the front desk, where she was getting a doctor's note to excuse missing class.

"Oh, excuse me. Hey—are you alright?" the nurse was asking.

Jolene let her gaze lock with Cora, waiting until the moment of recognition flashed in them, and then she quickly yanked her hood back over her head and backed away from the nurse. "I'm fine," She muttered.

She ignored the nurse as she called out for her to wait and asked for her name. Jolene quickly rushed around the chairs of the waiting room and made a beeline straight for the exit.

Not even six steps from the door, Cora called her name.

Jolene faltered and turned to watch as Cora hurried up the sidewalk. Cora tugged her bag up higher on her shoulder and waved the white paper the receptionist had given her like a flag. "Wait!"

Jolene didn't stop. She kept walking at a brisk pace, and made to disappear around the corner of the building when Cora finally reached her and grabbed her elbow.

Cora was young. Younger than Jolene by two years, but the girl was smart and apparently, just as fast on land as she was in water. She wasn't even winded and instantly her eyes were on the bandage on her neck. "You're injured," She pointed out. "Why did you leave? You should see a doctor—"

"I'm fine," Jolene insisted, gently pulling her elbow from the girl's grasp. "Where are your parents?"

In reality, Jolene had never seen the Hales father—in fact, she was fairly certain there wasn't one to speak of—but she obviously couldn't let on just how much she knew about the girl's family.

"My mom is waiting in the car," She said, which Jolene thought could be a confirmation that her father was somehow out of the picture, but that could just be reading too much into it.

"Actually," A woman said from the parking lot. Talia Hale strode across the pavement and Jolene was struck at how strong the woman looked, how her presence alone commanded everyone's immediate attention. "She's right here, and she's wondering what her daughter is doing. This is certainly _not_ coming straight to the car, young lady."

Cora looked between Jolene and her mother like the explanation should have been obvious. She almost took a protective step toward Jolene that Jolene hadn't expected from the younger girl. "Mom, this is—"

"Jolene Argent," The woman knowingly finished. "I am well aware of who she is." Her gaze felt invasive and Jolene got the feeling that she was an unwelcome distraction in their evening schedule. And Talia clearly didn't _do_ distractions. "What I am wondering, however, is why you are talking to her instead of doing as you were told?"

Cora gestured at Jolene. "Mom, look at her. She's hurt."

"Well it's fortunate we are standing in front of the clinic, no?" Talia raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow exactly like Derek had done the afternoon before. "She should let a doctor have a look."

Had it really just been yesterday afternoon? It felt like a lifetime ago, now.

"Exactly," Cora agreed. She looked pleased at that point and then turned to cross her arms at Jolene now. "That's why I'm here, mom. She just left—well, _ran_ was more like it, I think—I think because I saw her here and—"

"Cora, get to the truck please."

"She missed school today, actually, I remember Derek mentioning—"

"Cora." This time, it was less polite and more demanding. The younger girl huffed indignantly and her eyes found Jolene. She looked all at once annoyed, concerned and overwhelmingly curious. "Now."

Whatever she so desperately wanted to say, she seemed to know better than to push her mother further. Cora spared Jolene one last lingering look before she stomped off the sidewalk. She walked to her mother until Talia motioned for her to pass, pointing straight at a nearby truck.

Neither Jolene nor Talia moved an inch or said a word as Cora grew more and more distant, until she finally stopped at a large black pick up and climbed into the passenger seat.

Talia's gaze never wavered from Jolene. She stood with her arms still crossed and after a long, uncomfortable silence, she said, "An alpha in the area we were tracking has gone missing."

_Christ_ the woman was quick. Jolene nearly touched the bandage on her neck, but stopped herself at the last second. She looked away, her jaw clenched. "Alpha?" She shook her head.

"Don't." Talia shook her head. "I don't think either of us has the patience for pretense at the moment." Her eyes flashed bright, glowing red, and they focused right on the bandage on Jolene's neck. "That looks painful."

Jolene had to admit, she was shocked at the blatant disregard for the famed Hale secrecy. That family was locked down like a vault. Or so they said. Yet here was the alpha, flashing all the family secrets in broad daylight.

Ultimately, it seemed wise to hold her cards close to her chest. Jolene chose not to say a word. She simply watched Talia carefully, measuredly, never daring to turn her back on the predator before her.

"If you don't get treatment for it, you will die."

Of all the things she expected, that definitely wasn't it. Jolene's exterior cracked. Her lips parted and her hands fell to her side lamely. "I—think that seems a bit dramatic."

Talia nearly smirked. "Dramatic? No. I believe that between the two of us, I feel comfortable saying I have a bit more experience in this field. And I'm saying that a bite from a man like him… untreated, it will be fatal." She paused, and looked over Jolene's face closely. "I would say you are already starting to feel weak."

"Well, _I_ feel comfortable saying that you'd probably call me weak on any other Thursday afternoon, flesh wound or no."

Talia's eyes flashed again and she lifted her chin slightly. "Weak? No. Any other day, I'd say you were vulnerable in your current situation."

"_Please_. It's no secret that the Hales think the general public is subsidiary."

Talia's head tilted and she leveled a cool look at Jolene. "Subsidiary? What a word. Well, whatever you'd call it, you are _not_ the general public, are you… Ms. Argent?"

Jolene had receded to her original tactic. Silence, and keeping her cards close to her chest. She crossed her arms tightly and felt the urge to escape the woman entirely. There was something about a Hale standing face to face with her, pointing out the fact that she is their sworn enemy, that brought Jolene fully into the reality of her situation.

"Nothing left to say?" Talia wondered, and then after another stretch of silence, the woman allowed a short, sharp breath to escape her in a pointed sigh. "Fine. I should have left five minutes ago, anyway. You need valerian root, and fast."

"What, the stuff they use to flavor root beer?" She quipped before she could help it.

Talia barked a mocking laugh. "No, girl. Listen to me. _Valerian_ _root_."

Jolene kept a blank, uncomprehending look on her face as she shook her head. "So, do they sell that at the Walmart?"

A noise of impatience clicked from the woman and she waved her hand dismissively. She turned to walk away, her heels clacking on the pavement, and she called out, "Your family will know how to find it."

She supposed now would be the moment to mention she couldn't contact them. Effectively, she'd been cut off. To fully emerge herself undercover, she was to have no interaction with the Argents until further notice. They dropped her at the motel with her belongings and a fresh first aid kit, and told her not to call. _They_ would call when the time was right. And they would be watching.


	3. Chapter 3

"I don't see how this time is any different," Cora said. She stood in her mother's study. Talia sat at her desk, tapping away at the keyboard. Laura paced in front of the door and let out a loud, derisive snort.

"If that's true then you should step out and let the _adults_ handle the conversation!" She all but snarled.

"Laura," Talia warned. The older girl's hands flexed into fists before they relaxed and she ground her incessant pacing to a stop, her eyes flashing momentarily at Cora.

"What is it about her that's got you so worked up?" Cora asked, and shook her head in disbelief. Her mocking tone sounded like it belonged to someone much older than her. "Or is that just your _nature_ acting out again? I thought you had a hold on that—"

Laura's nostrils flared and she took a threatening step towards her youngest sibling. "You haven't even started the first stage of the shift yet, and you won't for another couple of years. That's not what my point is, have you been listening? Do you know what's coming in two weeks? Have you stopped to consider that maybe there's a _reason_ I'm having so much trouble controlling my impulses? Or are you so self-involved that you haven't noticed the extra hours Derek's been clocking in the gym?"

"What are you talking about?" Cora shook her head uncertainly and Talia clicked away on the keyboard like she hadn't heard a single word of their conversation since she last spoke.

"The blood moon only happens every three years, and guess how long it's been since the last one?"

Cora went quiet then. The blood moon was notoriously intense, even for werewolves that were Talia's and Peter's age. Not that you'd really be able to tell with Talia, of course—she had mastered control long ago and it took a lot to shake the unshakable woman. Still, this was a fact that somehow Cora had missed.

"I—I didn't know," She stammered, and Laura waved her hand to silence her.

"Exactly." Laura began prowling the room again, her eyes taunting her youngest sibling. "You _don't_ know."

"But can't you see my point?" Cora asked with renewed vigor. She moved forward to place an imploring hand on Talia's desk. Looking between the women, she said, "I've grown up as a werewolf. I was _born_ into it, and even I didn't know there was a blood moon happening in two weeks. Do you really think Jolene is going to be prepared?"

"Prepared?" Laura sneered at the thought. "No, I think she's laying some kind of trap."

"What trap!?" Cora's young voice cracked at her overhaul of emotions, then. "Somehow, some way, she was bitten by an alpha. Mom confirmed that herself last night. And you didn't see her Laura, she… she looked scared."

"She should be."

"They always are!" Cora cried insistently. "That's what you always say about the ones who turn like her! The ones who weren't born into it. It's scary and impossible and they need _help_."

"This is different," Laura said with a shake of her head. "She's not like the others."

"Your sister has a point," Talia finally spoke. She had turned away from the computer screen to watch her daughters' debate with interest. Surprisingly, she gestured to Cora. "She will be afraid. She looked… alone."

"No way," Laura immediately dismissed. "The Argents wouldn't have just abandoned her."

Talia said nothing. She simply tilted her head at the pair of them and Cora quietly spoke.

"Wouldn't they, though? She's going to become what they hunt. By their own laws, they'd have to kill her."

Even Laura looked disturbed at that. She hesitated for the first time, trying subtly to see if their mother seemed to have an opinion one way or the other on the matter.

"And would that be so bad?" Said a new voice from the door. Peter stood there, his arms crossed, looking like he'd been there from the start.

"It _is_ what we aim to stop," Talia reasoned, and Cora moved back to Laura's side as Peter entered the study, his form casting a shadow from the fireplace and darkening the girls' view slightly. Laura stood tall and defiant as ever.

"Really?" Peter arranged his features into a contemplative frown. "Because I thought we were training initiates, not rescuing strays off the streets."

"You hate the Argents more than anyone," Laura pointed out. "Of course you'd want her to die."

Peter turned to them then. He looked taken aback at the accusation, and Cora was confused about what his motives were. "I don't _want_ her to die. I can just see the writing on the wall. The Argents have their own code that they abide by, we are all grossly aware of that fact, and now their own code is going to kill one of their own. How… _shakespearian_."

"Peter, this is someone's life," Talia frowned. "A child's life. Not a pawn in your strategy to eliminate the hunters."

"I'm simply saying that it's one less threat against our _family_, Talia. And isn't that what matters the most?" Peter challenged.

The room went quiet. "But what if we're wrong?" Cora spoke, dispelling the sudden tension in the room. Everyone's eyes locked on her. "What if they can't kill her for the same reason? She's their family."

Peter thought this over quietly, and Laura frowned down at her fists.

Talia took a breath. She sat back in her chair. "Cora… You're right." Peter and Laura both stiffened, but before they could interrupt she continued. "We simply don't know enough. Not yet. We need to gather information before we make our move."

Cora blinked. "That wasn't really what I was trying to—"

"We could be wasting precious time, not to mention resources," Peter argued, blocking the girls' view again. "I'm not trying to fight you on this, Talia, but an Argent? Really? Don't you think that's going a step too far?"

Talia stood from her seat and Peter took a compliant step back, letting the warm light from the flames dancing in the fireplace wash over his sister. "Yes, I do. It's the only reason I didn't bring her here from the start. Peter, I can see how the rest of the packs would look at this situation and say the exact same thing you are. It could be a trick. Or a trap." She paused, her gaze finding her youngest child then. "Or… they could have abandoned her."

Peter didn't make a move to disagree, though it was clear by now that he did. He simply stood quietly as Laura and Cora exchanged an uncertain look.

"Maybe she was training, like you," Cora reasoned, talking to Laura now. "To be a leader in the group. Maybe something went wrong and… she was bitten."

"I don't trust it, and I don't trust her." The words rang with a finality. Talia paused after the declaration and drew in a breath. "We need more information."

"What would you have us do?" Laura stepped up.

"I want Derek to find out more," Talia decided.

"But—" Cora tried, and Talia held up a hand.

"You're too young, sweetheart." Talia's gaze was warm but left no room for argument. "I know you care, but Derek has had training that you haven't yet. That will come in handy."

"He can do this," Peter agreed, even though Laura didn't seem to be a huge fan of the new plan, either. "It'll be a good distraction from the fact that he can't play in the championship next week."

"Oh," Laura grimaced. The girls exchanged a knowing look. "I didn't realize you had reached a decision about that, mom."

Talia looked tired, then. "Yes. Try to break the news to him gently, Laura."

The older girl went rigid. She gawked at her mother and looked to Peter for help. "Me? I have to be the one to tell him?"

Peter looked sympathetic. "Be direct, honest, and tell him before he's finished with his workout so he can express his outrage at the punching bag, and _not_ the wall again. Please."

"Boys," snorted Cora, earning an amused and affectionate smirk from Peter. "I swear he's got the emotional capacity of a serial killer."

"Come on," Peter beckoned to his youngest niece with an outstretched arm. "Let's go hide out in the library. He'd never _dare_ to go there. We can read the next Harry Potter."

Cora gasped in delight and skipped to follow her uncle. "I heard this one has dragons…"

Laura waited for them to pass through the door before she turned to look at Talia. "Any advice about how to handle this?"

"Peter was right about one thing," She said. "Be honest with him. Derek responds well to honesty."

Laura sighed heavily. "Great. I mean, I've reset his broken femur before. Compared to that, this should be painless."

Talia chuckled. "I believe in you."

Laura tilted her head and mumbled doubtfully under her breath as she exited the study.

* * *

The next afternoon, the bell rang just after lunch and Jolene swung her locker shut. She jumped in surprise at the boy standing behind it.

"Derek!" She gasped, clutching a hand to her racing heart. Self-consciously, she looked around to see if anyone else was noticing how weird this was, for Derek Hale to be openly and willingly initiating conversation with Jolene during his free period. Yes, she had memorized his schedule. It was part of her preparation for infiltrating the pack—he was obviously her easiest way in—but she didn't expect him to approach her first.

And she didn't expect him to look so pissed off. "You've missed the last two psychology classes."

"You took psychology?" Jolene frowned, pretending not to know, and Derek's eyes narrowed. She raised an eyebrow and wrapped her other hand around her books, clutching them tightly against her chest. "Kidding."

He blinked flatly at her. "Ha. The teacher actually paired us up for the next project."

"Project?" This time, she really was clueless. "But, that's not possible—I emailed all my teachers to ask for the material I missed and she didn't mention a project—"

"We've got an appointment to go to the animal shelter after school at 4. Don't be late."

"Wait!" Jolene protested, as Derek turned without another word and took long, loping strides away from her. She hurried to catch up to his side, dodging the thick crowd of students moving around them. "Appointment? Do you even have to schedule appointments at a place like that? Don't you just show up—and wait, why are we—"

Derek threw his head back like she was the absolute most annoying thing in the world and closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring with the force of his sigh. After a moment passed, he turned to her. "They're closed on Mondays. Luckily, I know the guy who runs the place so I was able to get us in today. You have a ton of catching up to do. I need to show you what we've been working on so far—"

"We?" She blinked, still confused.

"Well, _I _have been working on so far. Thank you for pointing that out." He smirked then, a gloating sort of glean in his green eyes, which then took in her clothing—from the floral scarf and jean jacket down to the red pants and white tennis shoes. To her horror, she actually felt her face warm and she gritted her teeth and put her shoulders back. His gaze lingered on the scarf for a moment before he continued. "We're training dogs."

"Excuse me?" Jolene frowned.

"Dogs," He said again, raising his eyebrows to see if she was following him. "You know, the—"

"Oh, I know what a _dog_ is, Hale, I'm just confused what they have to do with psychology." She snapped. Her patience with the conversation was wearing thin and she was starting to rethink her strategy to infiltrating the Hales.

Derek looked pleased at how easily he had annoyed her. "That's probably because you _skipped_ the last two classes."

She took a deep breath to keep from actually saying what she wanted. "I didn't skip—I have a doctor's note, I was sick—"

"Right," He snorted.

Finally, Jolene fixed him with an uncertain glare. "Why are you being such an ass?"

Derek's eyes darkened at the insult. "I'm sorry." He didn't sound it. "Who, between the two of us, has the right to be angry? I've done the majority of the work. You'll see what I mean this afternoon at four. Read chapters 13 and 14 beforehand or don't bother showing up, and I won't hesitate to let the teacher know if you fail to do a single thing to complete this project."

Jolene was rendered speechless as Derek waited for her to say something. After a beat, he raised an eyebrow at her and then turned to stride away again.

She blinked, a thought striking her. "Wait! Isn't basketball practice at 4?"

Derek didn't respond. If anything, his shoulders stiffened and he quickened his pace and before she could move to follow, he disappeared in the crowd and the bell rang. Jolene's head fell back with a groan. She gasped in pain when her neck screamed in protest, and she kicked the nearest locker. Late to Spanish.

"Argent!" Barked a teacher some distance down the hall. "Detention! Tonight!"

She nearly threw her books at him. "But I can't! I have to do a project—"

"You'll have to do it later, then."

_Crap_. Derek was going to kill her.

* * *

_**A/N: Thank you for the reviews, favorites and follows! Keep them coming, please :) **_


	4. Chapter 4

In Beacon Hills, there aren't a lot of choices for transportation. There's taxis, but they mostly run downtown or to the airport. There's a bus system, but that also only runs through the city. The animal shelter was on the outskirts near the preserve. She supposed she could have gotten a taxi but that would have cost at least 20 dollars and she was short on cash at the moment.

Jolene called Kate several times, hoping to catch a ride from her. She didn't dare call Gerard. There was no answer, and she had no options left and about an hour before she'd definitely be late. No, to get there, Jolene had to walk.

It wouldn't be so bad, except lately she was feeling out of shape. She was winded just by taking the stairs to the second floor for classes earlier. The scarf she wore made her feel like she was overheating constantly, and she'd been coated in a fine sheen of sweat all day.

She shivered because she was cold, but she was sweating because her body was overheating. Almost like she had a fever. She came over a hill and wiped her brow, which was slightly slick. Partly from the sweat that clung to her and partly because the air was heavy, like it was about to rain. She gulped down a breath of heady air. The parking lot was nearly empty. One car sat close to the door.

She absently hoped there was a vending machine inside. She walked up the pavement and almost didn't open the door. It looked closed. Even the sign hanging on the glass door was flipped to indicate that was the case, but she saw movement inside. Derek stood at the counter with his back turned, talking to someone sitting behind the front desk.

As she entered, Derek looked back to raise an eyebrow at her. A habit of his, she was beginning to notice. "Didn't I say not to be late?"

"Yeah, well, I had detention for thirty minutes after class."

Derek rolled his eyes and she looked at the man sitting behind the desk. Her head spun. She leaned against the wall and tried not to be obvious about her panting. The man took an opportunity to speak up. "Well, I've got everything set up. You good?"

"Yeah, I'll lock up before we head out." Derek grinned at the man with familiarity. "Thanks again, Roach."

_Roach?_ Jolene carefully kept her distaste for the name masked. Roach smirked at the pair, his eyes lingering on Jolene for a beat. "Good luck," he remarked, as though she'd need it.

And with that, he gathered a bag that hung off the back of his chair and left. Jolene hovered by the door awkwardly. She wiped her hands down her pants and tugged uncomfortably at the stifling scarf. "So…" she trailed off, completely unsure of what to do.

Derek jerked his chin to the door with a lone, flickering light over it. "Let's get this over with."

He didn't wait for her to follow and Jolene quickly caught up to his side. They walked into a large, open room that Jolene hadn't expected. Outside, the building looked small. Now she realized the smallest part was the entry way. Once they were further inside it was quite sizable. A sign hanging on the back wall indicated that this is not only an animal shelter, but an obedience training course as well.

There was a short fence arranged in a long, angular square. Near the edge of the room there was a dog crate with a mass of black fur inside. The sound of a zipper drew her attention and she watched as Derek shed his jacket off and slung it across a chair. Derek was comparatively short to some of the boys in their class, especially his closest friends on the basketball team. Nevertheless, he was one of the most sought-after boys in school period, and Jolene was well aware that most girls would kill to be in her position. She wasn't blind, either. His dark hair, intense green eyes and well-defined muscles made for an intimidating person. He looked every part of the aloof-bad boy, but somehow had earned a reputation for being a charismatic, athletic all-star.

"Did you read the chapters like I told you to?" He asked.

"As a matter of fact, I did. Twice," Jolene frowned.

Derek side-eyed her. "Okay," He said in a flat, unimpressed tone.

She shrugged at him defensively. Thirty minutes was a long time to kill when you're in detention, and truth be told the material in this psychology book was nothing compared to the curriculum level she'd grown accustomed to over the years she spent in private school in France. She'd kill for a drink of water.

Derek confidently approached the cage at the far side of the room. The dog inside stood up and stretched his legs as Derek opened the door. He knelt down on the ground and chuckled as the huge, fluffy hound excitedly licked his face and gave a happy snort. Jolene's nose wrinkled. "Aren't dogs supposed to…. you know. Hate you?"

And like that, all pretense that they were two perfectly ordinary enemies paired together to complete a project for class was shed. Derek's shoulders went stiff and the smile dropped from his face. He withdrew from the dog and made some sort of motion with his fist at the animal. "Sit," He commanded, and the dog easily complied. Jolene felt a headache coming on.

The dog sat panting, with a dopey-almost-grin on its face. His tongue lolled lazily as he watched Derek and Jolene patiently.

"Aren't the Argents supposed to actually, you know… know the _truth_ about all the myths? Fact from fiction, and all that." Derek crossed his arms at Jolene.

Jolene scoffed. "Yes, and it's _not_ a myth. I've seen a barn cat shred one of your kind to pieces before."

Derek looked like he didn't believe her, and scowled at her. "Really?" He rolled his eyes. "Animals are naturally afraid of us but we can control them. We can show them that we're in charge."

"Assert your dominance," Jolene supplied, only partly mocking him. Derek narrowed his eyes at her but grudgingly nodded.

"That's essentially it, yes." He said. "If you want to be basic about it."

"Did you just call me basic?" Jolene sneered.

Derek chose not to comment. He looked down at the dog and pointed to the far wall. The dog got up and padded across the matted floor and sat there to await further instruction. Derek went to rifle through a cabinet on the wall by the cage. He withdrew a bag of treats.

"It just takes the right communication. Animals understand food, above all else. They can be bribed." Derek lifted a whistle to his mouth and blew, and Jolene nearly doubled over in agony. The explosive, high pitched shriek that tore through the air almost pierced her ear drums.

Derek watched with raised eyebrows, like he was surprised not by the sound of the whistle, but her reaction. By the time Jolene recovered, the dog was at the other end of the arena and quickly circling back.

"Problem?"

"Just what the hell kind of whistle _is_ that, Hale?" Jolene growled.

Derek held the silver, narrow whistle out. "This? It's a dog whistle. Don't be so dramatic. It's supposed to be silent to _human_ ears."

Jolene ground her teeth together. The pain growing in her head blossomed into a full blown migraine, and a wave of nausea rocked her belly. "Yeah, well, I think you need to get your money back. It's broken."

"It's not broken and I didn't buy it. It belongs to the animal shelter."

"Oh my gosh," Jolene irritably grumbled. "And you're sharing it with all of them? That's _gross_."

"Quit being such a brat and focus. We don't have a lot of time here, I need to leave in 20 minutes." Derek threw a treat in the air and the dog jumped up to catch it. Jolene was ready to punch the guy, but she balled her hands into tight fists and silently fumed, watching him work. "I've taught Raider here all the basic commands. Sit, stay, roll over, shake."

"How many times have you been here, exactly?" Jolene wondered. Derek raised an eyebrow at her.

"Twice before." He went to demonstrate roll over with the dog, and Jolene mulled this fact over as she observed. "The objective of this project is to prove that you can teach a dog all the basic commands using positive reinforcement alone. You roll over, you get a treat. You sit, you get a treat. It's a conditioned response."

"Is that how you learned to control yourself for the full moon?" Jolene smirked. "Treats?"

Derek crossed his arms and focused a stern glare on Jolene. "Is that really what you want to do? You want to talk about _that_, here, now?"

Jolene shrugged. "It was a joke."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "Well we have a project to finish. If you want to be part of that and get some credit for this class, great. Otherwise we can have a very different discussion and you can have fun coming up with your own project next semester when you retake the course."

"I was just making a _joke_," She grumbled, again. "Relax. I know I've got my weight to pull here. Sorry."

Derek wasn't expecting a blatant apology. His lip curled hesitantly and he watched her closely through narrowed eyes. "It's fine," He finally dismissed. "You want to try?"

She was suddenly uncertain. Dogs weren't really her thing. In fact, she'd never had a pet before. She shifted slightly.

"Are you _nervous?_" Derek's eyes nearly sparkled at this, and Jolene scowled at him. "Come on, come over here. It's okay. I'll show you. Raider is harmless."

In the back of Jolene's mind, she wondered if all this was really worth what her family was expecting. Her jaw clenched so tight her teeth ached slightly, making her hiss under her breath and touch her temple at the throbbing pain.

The dog was huge. He was fluffy and his hair had a wiry texture. He looked more like a giant, skinny horse than a dog. "What is it?" She asked, and quickly amended the question before Derek had the chance to make a smart comment. "I mean what _breed_, or whatever."

Derek was clearly trying to conceal mirth at her discomfort. "He's an Irish Wolfhound. At least, that's what he mostly is."

"_Wolf?_" Jolene's voice was higher than normal.

The dog suddenly raised from a sitting position to a crouch as Jolene's anxiety spiked. She nearly panicked when its ears went back and it lowered its head with a growl. Derek then angled himself to block Jolene, and crouched to catch its eye. "Sit."

Raider let out a soft whine and tossed his head, but sat with a great plop and eyed Derek compliantly.

With the dog settled, Derek turned his gaze onto Jolene. His gaze found her neck and he looked somewhat concerned, and Jolene inched away from his close proximity. She could smell what kind of soap he used, and something else in the air too. Something faintly metallic and sharp. "You need to calm down. Now."

"Yeah, you're really putting me at ease with these incessant commands. I'm not a dog, Derek." Jolene's heart still hammered in her chest and Derek took a step towards her. "Back off."

"Or what?" He challenged, tilting his head. Jolene resisted the urge to retreat as he took yet another step towards her. "You know, something has been bothering me all day... you and that scarf."

She didn't stop herself in time from touching where the fabric concealed her bandaged neck. Jolene scowled at him and stuck her chin out defiantly, looking down her nose at him. "What's the matter with my scarf?"

"You never wore them before, but this is the second day in a row. Isn't it a little late in the season to start the habit now?"

"I didn't see you yesterday," She pointed out, and Derek's invasive behavior faltered half a step. His gaze flickered to hers momentarily before he hazarded a shrug.

"Cora told me."

"She told you that I was wearing a _scarf?_" Jolene narrowed her eyes at him and Derek shook his head.

"She said that you were hiding something."

"How could she possibly know that?" Jolene did take a step back now, and Derek crossed his arms.

"It's not hard to figure out. You've basically got a fuck-off stamp on your forehead. At least, for the last two days you have. Why is that?"

"Maybe it's because I want you people to fuck. Off."

Derek hummed as he considered. "You people? And what did Cora do to deserve that?"

"Stuck her nose in my business, that's what." Jolene ignored the _you people_ barb, realizing her mistake.

"What business is that?" He said, and took another step towards her. Jolene stepped back again.

"What part of _my_ business don't you understand?"

"Argent," He said, and tilted his head at her. "Come on. We both know you want to ask. So just ask."

"Fine," she snapped. "Can you please fuck off?"

He laughed at that. "No, I mean you need our help."

"What are you talking about?" Jolene threw her hands up and Derek finally placed one steadying hand on her shoulder, and tugged the scarf away from her neck to reveal the bandage underneath. She yanked his hand off and twisted it around painfully, and Derek made a noise of protest as a bone popped loudly.

"Shit!" He exclaimed, holding his injured hand, his eyes blazing with fire. "What's your problem?!"

"Don't touch me!" She growled. "What's _your_ problem?"

"I'm just trying to help!" He snapped. "You need our help. Right? Mom said you needed valerian root. Three days ago."

"I'm fine!" She paced away and noticed that Raider had retreated to his open cage again, watching them on edge. He shifted positions when she looked at him. "Just drop it! God!"

Derek huffed and pushed his thumb around until there was another pop. Wincing, he flexed his fingers. "Jolene, _listen_. You have no idea what comes next. I've said a lot of things tonight, but just... listen, okay?"

Jolene crossed her arms and kept quiet. Derek was still fuming, but he had a determined look on his face.

"I know _you_ know what we are." He paused, and a slightly vulnerable look crept onto his face. "What I am. You know what we're capable of. Your family is scared of it, and for good reason. This—what I am—what you'll become... it can be dangerous. _You_ could be dangerous. You could die."

"If you're trying to scare me, it's not working," She said, even though it sounded lame even to her own ears.

Derek rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to acknowledge you said that. You can be stubborn all you want, but you could never be stupid, Jolene."

Her lips tightened into a pout and to her great humiliation she felt her eyes prickling. From the nausea, from the pain in her head, from the heat radiating in her neck, from _all_ of it. And for the first time since the night it happened, she felt a trickle of fear creeping around the edge of her resolve. Jolene's flaming face fell slightly and she crossed her arms tighter around herself. "I don't even know if it's taken yet," She admitted in a whisper so low she didn't know if Derek could hear. He could, evidently, by the look on his face. "The bite. It... I don't feel any different at all." Just alone, living in a motel by herself. She certainly wasn't feeling strong like they say she should. "I actually feel sick. Like the flu or something."

"Yeah," He agreed, looking sympathetic. "I can tell. I'm not joking around or trying to piss you off. I understand what you mean... is... does anyone know?"

Jolene's eyes fluttered at the question. _He thinks I ran away_. Her heart rate spiked. It wasn't so far fetched, really. And it was the perfect excuse... Derek mistook her sudden excitement for anxiety. She played into it and fixed a contemplative frown on her face. "They know."

He licked his lips and gestured at her neck. "Why haven't they helped?"

"They... can't." She fixed a warning glare on him. "You _know_ they can't help me with _this_."

"Then let us." He grabbed her arm. "I'll talk to my mom. It's all going to be fine."


	5. Chapter 5

"You're sure?" Laura asked for the second time. Derek rolled his eyes at her.

"Would I be here if I wasn't?" He pointed out, and Laura merely crossed her arms.

"What makes you so sure?" Talia asked.

"She was practically wheezing by the time she got to the shelter," He explained. Laura jumped down from her seat on the counter and Talia threw her a dirty look simply because she had asked her daughter several times not to sit up there.

"Derek, this may come as a shock to you but six miles is a long way for a human to walk. Of _course_ she was out of breath." She fixed him with what she must have thought was a sympathetic expression. "For someone who wants to be normal so bad, you sure have a poor understanding of what that would actually mean."

Derek's temper flared and Talia stepped in. "Can you two set aside your petty rivalry long enough to deal with the matter at hand?"

"It's not a rivalry. I don't want a single thing that she has." Derek fixed a lethal glare on his older sister who simply snorted in derision.

"Yeah, mom, haven't you heard? He _wants_ to join the NBA."

"At least I can come up with my own goals," He said, venom lacing his words. "Make my own decisions. Think for myself."

"You know what _I_ think?" Laura started in on him and Derek didn't back down at all when his older sister crowded him.

"I said that's enough!" Talia's voice cut between them like a whip. Laura instantly retreated and Derek smirked at that, and Laura growled and her eyes flashed. She started to pace and her eyes never left his for a second. "Derek, Laura is right." He bristled and Talia pushed on. "Six miles is a long ways to walk. Is that really all that you have?"

"No," He said through gritted teeth. "She wasn't just panting. If you had let me finish, I was going to say she nearly passed out at one point. She had to lean against the wall just to keep from falling over. She tried really hard to keep me from noticing but she did a pretty shitty job of it. Not to mention the fact that she kept that stupid scarf on the entire time, despite the fact that she was soaked in sweat."

Talia's eyebrows furrowed and she chose to overlook his language in favor of considering what he was actually saying. "And how did she smell?"

He made a face. "Not great. Bad, actually."

"Well isn't that illuminating," Laura mocked. "Anything else?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Don't take my word for it. Go see for yourself."

Talia turned and Laura sat up straighter, and their eyes both went to the front door. "She's _here?_" Laura clarified. "You brought her _here?_"

"I wasn't about to leave her—"

"No," Talia agreed. "You did the right thing."

"What!?" Laura exclaimed. "I can't believe you would bring an outsider here—"

"Where is she?" Talia asked, overshadowing her daughter as she moved towards the door.

"With Peter," Derek said and Laura relaxed at that, muttering at least he had the sense not to leave her unattended. "He said he would take her to the family room to wait."

Talia left without a backwards glance. Derek shot Laura a dirty look as his older sister passed him to follow quickly in their mother's footsteps. He sighed and followed at a slower pace down the stairs.

There was no doubt in his mind that when his mom got within twenty feet of Jolene, she'd see what he was talking about. However bad she was back when she and Cora first saw her at the clinic, she was much worse now. The smell alone was enough, but pair that with the heat that emanated from her neck and Derek wouldn't be surprised if she only had days left before…

He was the last in the room, it seemed. Cora was the closest to Jolene. She sat in the chair beside her with a glass of water in her hand that she was trying to encourage Jolene to take. Peter monitored from the far corner of the room, his face pensive and difficult to read. He stood when he caught sight of Derek and waited for him to join him.

They stood off to the side and watched while Talia spoke in a quiet voice to Jolene, crouching in front of her chair.

It was clear that it was the last thing Jolene had expected the Alpha woman to do. She sat as far back in the seat as she possibly could, nearly lifting her knees up to try and keep distance between them, and her sickly pallor and sheen of sweat gave her the look of what Derek imagined someone stricken with an archaic disease would have.

"She's not long for this world if she doesn't accept our help."

Peter's observation lacked the sympathy his words suggested. He almost sounded as though he thought she was stupid, and Derek thought it was probably because of the clear, learned revulsion that Jolene poorly disguised as extreme caution.

Derek couldn't think of an appropriate response so he kept quiet while Talia attempted to reach for Jolene. Jolene snatched her hand away and then seemed to instantly regret it. She cast Cora a regretful look, and Cora was obviously confused and offended at Jolene's actions.

"I—I'm sorry," Jolene nearly whispered.

Talia shook her head. "You're in a room of the people you were raised to hate. I understand."

Jolene's shoulders lost some of their tension and her blue eyes were intense with some emotion that Derek had trouble identifying. He watched as she extended her hand in a fist against her better judgment. Talia took her wrist and quietly took her pulse.

His mother stood, then, and told Laura to go get as much valerian root from their stores as she could find. "Cora," She said. "Help me set up a room for her."

"You mean she's staying _here?_" Laura asked, not moving.

"Laura," Talia asserted. "Now is not the time to question me. Do what I ask."

Laura scowled deeply and sent Jolene one last lingering glare as she strode from the room without another word. Cora kindly stood to help Jolene to her feet, though Jolene shrugged her off and defiantly followed the pair of females from the room.

Jolene caught Derek's eye and he tried to give her a reassuring nod. For a long moment, neither of the boys said a word in the silence that followed.

"I have to admit," Peter finally spoke, turning his head to gaze thoughtfully at his nephew. "I was surprised when you showed up with her tonight. When you left her with me and asked me to watch her. _Her_."

"You saw her condition," Derek grumbled. "I couldn't just… leave her. Like that."

Peter nodded at that and took a moment to reflect. "Do you trust her?"

Such a loaded question. Derek hesitated and he took a moment to go touch a flyer for the homecoming game that laid on an end table by the chair Cora had been sitting in. "I'd be stupid to say yes."

Peter's eyes darted to the side, amused. "She's pretty," He observed, keeping his tone light, and he raised his eyebrows when Derek shot him a venomous look. "What? You know it's true. Are you telling me that has nothing to do with—"

"Of course not," Derek growled. "I'm not—it's not—she's an _Argent!_"

"And yet you brought her _here_," Peter continued, moving closer to his nephew. "To our home. Because she's _hurt_."

"You would have done the same," Derek defended. "Don't act like it's not true."

"It's not about me. It's about _her_. Who she is. How she was raised." Peter shook his head. "Surely you understand what I'm saying here, Derek? She's a hunter! And you brought her straight to the pack!"

"I had to!" Derek insisted. "Yes, she's been raised to hate us. She's an Argent. I don't know how it happened and it makes no sense at all, but she's going to die, Peter! Unless we help her." He paused. "That's what we've always tried to stop! I know I've made it clear that I don't… I mean, I haven't always been as involved as you and mom would like," He quietly admitted. "But… Aren't…" He frowned in confusion at Peter. "Aren't you… I mean, I guess I just thought you were always the one who liked the idea of turning more people like her."

"Like her?" Peter scoffed.

"No—like—by _biting_," Derek shook his head. "You've always wanted to recruit more people that way. To expand the pack. I mean, I've heard you and mom argue about that for months."

Peter looked guilty and he went to look out the window at the night sky thoughtfully. For a long moment, he didn't respond.

"I don't want a larger pack just for the sake of it." Peter turned to look at Derek, a conflict clear on his face that Derek couldn't understand. "Your mother wouldn't want me tell you this but honestly—I think you need to know. I've wanted to tell you for months, but your mom… she… wanted to let you have basketball."

Derek felt a flood of guilt and dread. "Tell me what?"

Peter sighed and ran a hand over his face. Suddenly, he looked tired. "Derek… do you remember Tristan Land?"

The question caught him completely by surprise. He blinked rapidly and his mind spun slightly, then slowed as a realization came into focus. "Yes…" He hesitated. "What did he do now?"

Peter closely searched his nephew's face, looking for something there. "When's the last time you talked to him?"

Derek's face fell and he felt his cheeks heat in shame. How his uncle always seemed to know so much about _so much_, he'd never understand… He sighed. "A couple of months ago."

Peter nodded like he'd expected that. "Then you know."

Derek hesitated and then shrugged. "I mean, I know that he was short for cash. He asked me if I would go to mom. He said he was trying to expand the family business or something, I don't know, but he…" It was hard for him to admit the next part. "He wanted me to sponsor him."

That meant something, in the werewolf community. There were certain customs their kind followed. It was old fashioned and Derek hated most of it, but there was such a long, complicated history in their family lines. The Hales were one of the oldest, most venerated packs that were still around. In fact, they were one of the Original Six. Cora always joked about how they were like a Pureblood family in Harry Potter, but he couldn't help but think that wasn't too far from reality.

To fully understand, it would help to know that a sponsorship can happen whenever a member of one of the Original Six families agrees to take on another family as an… extended member, of sorts. He wouldn't go so far as to say that it was like swearing fealty, but it wasn't _unlike_ it.

Essentially, Tristan was telling Derek he would swear loyalty to the Hale pack and if there was ever a time that called for a fight, or for any sort of support from the Lands, the Hales could count on them. And in return, the Hales would pay what the Lands needed to go into partnership with another business.

But it was more complicated than that. To take on a sponsorship would mean that Derek was taking up an active role in the pack. It would mean he would have to monitor the Lands and he would have to assume a certain degree of responsibility that Derek wasn't willing to accept. It's not that he didn't _want_ to be a werewolf. He just wanted a life of his own.

Peter looked suddenly sad. He nodded slowly in understanding and Derek shifted uncomfortably under his uncle's gaze. To openly admit he hid something like this meant… well, it meant that Derek was actively diminishing his role in the pack. Something that Peter would never understand.

But a feeling of dread pooled in his stomach at the expression on Peter's face. He looked… sorrowful. "You told him no." Peter wasn't asking. He seemed to be coming to terms with this new information. "Oh, Derek."

Derek stood, a flare of resentment lashing out. "See? This is why I didn't tell you!"

"Derek, relax!" Peter admonished, gesturing for him to sit back down. "That's not what I meant!"

Derek hesitated. "Then what?"

Peter looked pained again. He measured Derek's face and a moment passed before he spoke again. "Derek, Tristan and his entire family was killed by the Argents."

"What?" Derek's voice was hoarse. He swallowed roughly. "I—I mean, when?"

"Last night," Peter said.

Derek was lost in a whirlwind of emotions. Denial, shame, anger, _guilt_. His face was awash with horror. "All of them?"

Peter hesitated. "As far as we know."

"We have to go!" Derek exclaimed. "We need to find out if there's anyone left. Peter, please, I owe them this!"

Peter hesitated. He looked uncertain, but he considered Derek's desperate expression and the way his hand gripped his arm, and he grudgingly nodded. Derek's posture went rigid with resolve and he lifted his chin. "Let's go now, then."

* * *

Derek was surprised that Peter wanted to drive. Normally, Peter insists on running everywhere to travel. He likes to use vehicles as infrequently as possible. That way when they have no choice but to travel by car, people and law enforcement alike wouldn't be able to know what type of vehicle they owned.

It was a black mustang, with the windows tinted as dark as was legally allowed. Derek stared out that window now.

Peter turned down the radio. "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did," Derek absently retorted.

"You said Tristan asked you months ago to sponsor him, and you turned him down." Peter glanced away from the road to peer at Derek. He didn't look like he was judging him. He looked curious. Derek knew he was disappointed in him, but he was courteous enough to pretend he wasn't. "Why?"

Derek sighed. He cleared his throat. "Well… he dropped out of school. Did you know that?"

"What?" Peter looked taken aback. Peter himself was always pushing Derek to assume as little tradition in the public world as possible, but even his uncle had to admit that you needed at least a high school degree. "I didn't know…" He paused. "I mean, after his dad was killed, I knew he'd taken over his role in the pack. I saw him a few times here and there. At a few meetings. He seemed eager to get revenge, you know, especially right after it happened. But then he started coming around less and less, and then…"

Derek nodded. "I know he blamed the Argents for what happened to his dad."

Peter drew in a deep breath and raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. "Well, they _did_ kill him."

"True," Derek allowed. It sounded like a _but_ would follow, but whatever he had to add he choose to keep it to himself. The silence stretched on for a moment, but before Peter could ask him again, Derek continued. "Anyways, I don't know. I guess after—what happened—we found out we didn't have too much in common anymore."

The boys had grown up together. When they were young, they were very close. They played on the same travel basketball team and they played well off each other. In fact, there was more than one occasion Derek felt the unfamiliar and unwelcome sensation of jealousy at how Tristan could play. Then, Tristan's dad died, and he stopped playing, and they got older and Derek played varsity basketball at his school now. And last he'd heard, Tristan had dropped the sport altogether while he worked in his dad's mechanic shop to make ends meet for his family.

From what he'd heard, he'd become pretty heavily involved in the pack for a short time too. But then he worked longer and longer nights at the garage, and it didn't take long before the boys had nothing in common at all anymore.

Then, out of the blue, Tristan showed up to Derek's practice one day over summer. He made it clear he was desperate or he never would have showed up. Never would have asked him this. Tristan understood Derek—he didn't agree—but he understood. There was a time he felt the same way. But that was a _long_ time ago, and he was _desperate_. And Derek told him no.

At one point, some time after Tristan disappeared from his life again, Derek thought he might have heard that Tristan was arrested for grand theft auto, but he was pretty sure the charges had been dropped. And now _this_.

Derek and Peter didn't speak again after that. They were still blocks away from the garage when Peter pulled into a dark alley and shut the car off.

"What are you doing?" Derek frowned.

"We'll go the rest of the way on foot," Peter explained as he got out of the car. Derek followed and the car's lock clicked as Peter tucked the keys away and quickly moved to grab ahold of the fire escape's handle at the end of the alley.

Derek followed as Peter led the way up the side of the building. They climbed to the roof and then set about quietly leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Before long, Derek see the dim lights of the garage. Peter held out a hand to stop Derek when they saw movement.

Peter pointed where Chris Argent came into view. Derek moved to stand and Peter pushed him back down, pressing a finger to his lips at Derek and then pointing back to the hunter.

Chris was young, but skillful. Derek didn't understand why they weren't just attacking—at least, not until he saw a young, blonde woman come out from the shadows. She took step next to her brother. Kate Argent. Vicious, ruthless woman.

She held a shotgun in her hands. "You don't think it will be too obvious if I keep this out, do you?"

Chris shook his head at his sister. "You're incorrigible."

Kate snickered. "Who am I kidding? I don't care if it's obvious."

They stepped inside, and Derek and Peter watched as Chris went to rap his knuckles across one of the garage doors. A face popped into the window, but Derek couldn't see who it was.

There was a shudder as the old, rusted door shakily opened, and Kate and Chris ducked under it together. It fell shut much faster than it had opened. Derek intently focused his hearing inside the building, his heart racing. He shifted anxiously and Peter made a motion for him to calm down.

Derek expelled a shaky breath and listened.

"_Love what you've done with the place," _Kate taunted. He heard footsteps and then a new voice joined her. "_Red is my favorite color._"

"_I—I did everything you asked, didn't I? We had a deal, didn't we?" _It was Reggie, Tristan's oldest brother. He was a werewolf too but he'd been estranged from the family for years, as far as Derek knew.

"_We did, and you delivered. Your criminal family, in exchange for freedom." _Chris said, and there was a sound as something was set down either on the floor or on a table.

_"__We didn't even have to get our hands dirty." _Kate paused. _"Which is a shame, because I love to get my hands dirty."_

_"__Kate, knock it off," _Chris admonished. _"Take your passport, your money, and leave. And never. Come back."_

There was the sound of shuffling feet. Someone grunted as they lifted a heavy bag and then Derek watched as Reggie's face came into view. He looked anxious and Derek watched the knob of a door by the garage door turn, and then he heard the sound of the shotgun that Kate held as she pumped it. Reggie froze, terror coloring his features, and he didn't even have time to turn before a violent spray of red splattered across the window of the door, blocking all field of view that Derek had. He heard as Reggie's limp body hit the floor.

His stomach turned and his heart jumped in his throat, and Peter physically dragged him closer to his side. "Shit," Derek gasped. "Shit!"

"_Stupid mutt," _Kate snarled. _"Not a loyal bone in his body. A pack of criminals. A blight on our community. They all deserved to die."_

* * *

Derek sat in stunned silence on the ride back home. Peter had been on a long, unending rant about the Argents' actions. He was practically foaming at the mouth, and he couldn't wait to tell Talia of this newest development.

"They shot him. In the _back,_" Derek muttered in disbelief. "In the back!"

"You know," Peter said. "I can't really blame the girl for not sticking around long enough to see if her family would help."

Derek was starting to wonder, though, if the Jolene was apart of _that_—a member of _that_ family… if she was raised around that, could they really trust her after all?


	6. Chapter 6

Jolene sat uncomfortably on the bed in the sparsely decorated room where Talia deposited her. A steaming mug sat on a table with some horrible liquid that smelled strong enough to eat through the ceramic cup and bleed onto the table.

Her scarf lay discarded on the bed, and that's what she was focused on now. Among the spots of red flowers was a dark reddish-brown stain that Jolene couldn't look away from. Her fingers ran softly over the raised, freshly cleaned bandages on her neck.

The door opened and startled her so bad her hand flew instinctively to the pillow. But of course there was no knife there, not like at home—or now at the motel—where she slept with a knife under her pillow every night. Derek let the door swing wide open as he entered, followed closely by Laura. She noticed the way Derek's eyes didn't miss her clutching the pillow tightly in her fist. A scowl flashed across her face and then she carefully arranged her features into the perfect picture of indifference. She unfurled her fingers from their death grip, and placed her hand on the quilt beside her.

"Well, the jury's still out," Laura declared. Jolene kept quiet and Derek went to the corner of the room quietly while his older sister stood in the center, close to the foot of the bed. Laura was beautiful in the way that girls Jolene's age ached to be. "We just can't seem to agree whether or not you're here to slit our throats in our sleep. Personally, I think it's a no brainer." Jolene didn't bother to ask Laura to elaborate. The older girl made no effort to hide her disdain for her. "But you'll be thrilled to hear that there's an upside to this. You get to pick your baby sitter."

Jolene blinked rapidly. She looked at Derek uncertainly, but he was impossible to read and completely unhelpful. He simply stood against the wall with his arms crossed and barely seemed to want to pay attention to either his sister or Jolene. He glared down at his shoes.

"What?" Laura snorted. "You didn't _actually_ think you'd get to stay in here unattended, did you?"

"What do you think I'll do?" Jolene gestured to the soiled scarf on the bed and then to her neck. "Didn't Talia say that I might not even survive this?"

"_Might_, being the operative word." Laura looked at her through narrowed eyes. "Just because they can't admit that you're plotting our demise doesn't mean that they don't see you're dangerous."

Jolene resisted the urge to ask who _they_ were, exactly. Cora, she was fairly certain was in her corner. Derek was another possibility, but one she was nowhere near certain of. She snuck another peek at Derek, who still hadn't budged from his spot. "I—I guess I'll choose you, then," She said to Laura.

"Ha! How very interesting," Laura barked out in amusement. She raised an eyebrow at Derek and he sighed heavily in response. "Well, I was lying. You'll get better at reading that in time, I suspect. You're stuck with Derek."

"What?" She sat up and Laura rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand.

"Oh, relax. You should be thankful it isn't me, honestly. I don't know if you'd last the night." A meaningful look passed from Laura to Derek. Jolene tried to decipher it but from what she could tell, Laura seemed to be expressing that Derek was not to let them down, and Derek seemed annoyed at his sister.

Actually, Derek seemed annoyed in general. The air in the room became closer, more energized almost, as Laura exited and the door finally shut behind her. Jolene kept her eyes on the the boy in the corner of the room and she was surprised when he turned his attention away from her after Laura left the room. He seemed to dismiss her and settled into a chair with a heavy sigh.

Derek rested his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hand, a cloaked and brooding expression befalling him. Jolene waited, waited for him to turn on her with an endless stream of accusations and questions like his family had been doing all night—but he kept his head down and she could only watch through narrow, suspicious eyes from her spot on the edge of the bed while he let his thoughts occupy all his attention.

She felt her heart pound in her chest. Being trapped in such a small, tight room—with one of _them_—she had been in school with Derek for months now, but all she knew of the boy was that he was an athlete and... she thought of what Gerard would say about her predicament. About how they'd contained her. He'd say they caged her, thrown her into the lion's den. It was getting harder to breathe.

They said she could _die_. She knew she could die, it's part of the risk when you're bitten—her whole family knew what that meant. It was as good as a terminal diagnosis. Her family _knew_ that, right? And they did it anyways?

Jolene's head grew light and she felt a humming in her veins that made her hands tremble. _Adrenaline_, she told herself._ It's just adrenaline. _Her palms itched and she restlessly bounced her knee. The headache from earlier was still going with a raging intensity. It felt like she'd banged her head against a wall over and over again, she was dizzy like her brains had spilled out and been replaced with cotton. Her mind was foggy and she couldn't breathe.

"You need to relax." Derek's voice cut through her swirling thoughts and she shot to her feet. "What are you doing?"

He looked at her like she was crazy and Jolene looked at the door. He tilted his head, slowly standing, and his hand was out like he was talking to a spooked horse. She took a deep breath to calm her racing heart, but it had the opposite effect. She moved aimlessly, stumbling up to the wall where she leaned against it and pressed her hand on her racing heart. _Pressure, apply pressure_. That's what you do when you're bleeding out, right?

"Drink this," Derek said, and Jolene jumped violently when something touched her arm. The mug sloshed over and spilled down his shirt. "What the hell!" There was a long, dark stain that spilled down his shirt to his jeans and Jolene recoiled.

"Stay back!" She held her hand out now, like he was advancing on her and she meant to stop him, but Derek hadn't moved an inch. In fact, he looked like he wanted to be as far from her as possible too. "Just stay _away_ from me!"

"Jolene, look at me," Derek grabbed her shoulder and something that sounded like an angry dog growling scared her more. She pressed as tightly against the wall as she could, as far from Derek as she could get. _Did he just growl at me? _

Derek looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time. He looked from the way she desperately pressed against the wall to something he saw on her face. Her sweaty hair that stuck across her face, her eyes that fluttered, the way she leaned as far away from his as she could.

"I get it," He said, and she let out something that sounded like a cross between a choke and a growl. Was that _her?_ That was _her _making that noise? Derek kept his hands up but didn't budge, didn't move closer to her. "This isn't natural. What's happening to you isn't normal." She blinked hard, the cotton in her head forming into a more coherent thought as his words registered. Words that had no business coming from _him_. "You're sick, and you need help."

She was burning up and she'd never felt such an intense mix of panic and anger. "Isn't this what you are?"

"That's how I know I'm talking about," He agreed. Jolene watched as he finally started to move his hands again. This time they went back to the mug and her eyes tracked his every movement as he slowly held it out to her. "You need to drink this now or it will only get worse."

Her chest rose and fell as she tried to breathe around her frenzy. "It smells awful."

Derek choked a laugh at that in surprise. "Well, it's medicine. Of course it does."

She narrowed her eyes again at him and Derek simply held the mug of steeped valerian root aloft and gestured for her to take it. Jolene reached out with a shaking hand and if she hadn't accidentally spilled part of its contents down his shirt earlier, she would've spilled it now.

It wasn't hot anymore. The mug was cool to the touch and her hands sweated so bad it almost slipped out of her grasp completely. She grabbed it with both hands but the shaking didn't slow down at all. Jolene's focus was torn between the dark, oily liquid inside the cup and Derek's watchful gaze.

"It's not poison," Derek suddenly offered. Jolene made a face at him that made him laugh again and she wasn't sure what to do with that. "Would it help if I explained how it works?"

Jolene didn't comment as she slid down the wall and withdrew her legs so that her knees jutted out beside her, her shoe lace spread along the floor because at some point they'd come untied. She expelled a trembling breath and set the cup on the ground between her legs.

Derek settled on the ground across from her and Jolene kept her attention on him, not trusting him any farther than she could throw him. He seemed unbothered, like they were a pair of ordinary friends keeping each other company after school. He scooted until he leaned back against the side of the bed, his long legs stretched out. She noticed the blue denim of his jeans were stained with the black oily substance in her mug. A nervous, unfamiliar energy coursed through her. She was tense and Derek looked perfectly at ease, nonchalant, even as he launched into an explanation, licking his lips.

She scowled down at the drink again, her face hot.

"It's like getting bitten by something carrying a virus," He started. "It infects you like a virus. That's why you feel sick. Your body is fighting against it. You know what happens when you get an infection, right?"

Jolene clenched her jaw and swallowed roughly. Her mouth was desert dry. She looked down at the drink from the corner of her eye.

"Your body knows when something uninvited latches onto your cells, and that's exactly what happens. It targets your blood. It spreads fast. Your white blood cells will try to fight it off. That normally works. It can take days, a week or sometimes more. But that's how it's _supposed_ to go." He paused. "That's not what's happening to you. You're losing this battle right now. Your body is over correcting. It's not just destroying the virus; it's destroying _everything_."

She felt the panic rise unbidden again. "S-So what can I do?"

He gestured to the mug. "You can drink."

Jolene hesitated only a moment more, Gerard's face flashing in her mind's eye, before she lifted the mug and drank. She choked on the liquid and just barely stopped herself from spitting it out. Jolene held the liquid in her mouth and the expression on her face must have been telling, because Derek smothered a laugh. She wrinkled her nose at him and swallowed roughly. Her stomach turned. "Ugh."

"Keep going," He encouraged. "This will help."

_This will help_, she told herself, drinking more of the bitter, oily, textured liquid. She could feel the leaves inside like rotten thyme. Her stomach churned and she felt she would be sick.

Somehow she powered through the whole mug, draining its contents until there was nothing left. She practically flung it on the floor next to her and it teetered before falling and rolling over by Derek's leg.

"You should probably move to the bed," He was saying, but his words didn't even register in her mind before a thick fog enveloped her mind, and Jolene fell on her side unconscious.

* * *

She wasn't getting better. If anything, she was getting worse. Cora scolded Derek when she came in well into the late morning the next day. He hadn't touched her from where she'd fallen. He simply stayed in the chair, his thoughts moving restlessly between Tristan and his brother, to the Argents, to the girl sprawled on the floor.

He transferred her to the bed under Cora's watchful gaze. She stood over him like a disappointed mother, her arms crossed, and she looked like a mini-Talia as she lectured him about common decency. Talia had then come to check on her shortly after and things were looking bad, from what little she said.

There was nothing more he could do, really, so he went about his day. By the time he'd returned from practice, he found Laura and Peter talking in hushed whispers in the kitchen.

As soon as he stepped into the room they abruptly stopped. He rolled his eyes. _Nice_. Real subtle.

"Oh, no, by all means." He gestured at them to continue and brushed past Peter. "Don't stop on my account. I'm just going to grab a water..."

Peter exchanged a look with Laura. "Hey, listen," He started forward. Derek grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and stopped because Peter blocked his path. "There's a meeting tomorrow."

Derek promptly stepped around his uncle and made a move for the door. Peter grabbed his shoulder and stopped him.

"You don't have to go," Peter quietly reassured him. Laura visibly withheld a protest from over their shoulder, and Derek hesitated. "I'll cover for you. I can think of something."

"She hasn't asked me to go in months..." Derek frowned and considered it. After what he witnessed last night, Tristan hadn't been far from his mind all day. And now, with this new development with Jolene, the Argents' next move was as hard to follow as ever. He was curious if any of the other packs had heard mention of Jolene's situation, not to mention what they'd have to say about Tristan.

The promise he'd made himself months ago echoed in his mind and Derek closed his eyes, his decision made.

"You don't have to cover for me this time, Peter. I'll go."

Laura was stunned. Peter's hand squeezed Derek's shoulder. "Are you sure? What about practice?"

"I'll put in some extra time at the gym," He declared on the spot. Between classwork, basketball and his training there _was_ no extra time, but the words were already out of his mouth and Laura looked pleased at this development. There was a time that was all he wanted. To impress his sister. He'd closed off that part of himself long ago, and he turned away from her without comment. "I'll make it work."

Peter studied Derek with an unreadable expression.

"If I had known all it took to draw you in again was to bite one of your classmates, I would've gone with Peter and Mason to do it ages ago." Laura sounded quietly amused and thoughtful.

So many things about that sentence made Derek's already upset stomach flop. First, Jolene was in worse shape than ever. So he didn't really appreciate that Laura was making light of the situation. He was never close to Jolene but he didn't like seeing her in such a state. He wouldn't want _anyone_ to be in such a state from the bite. Second, Mason was someone Derek wanted as little to do with as possible, and Laura knew it.

Mason was the alpha of another pack, and Laura's on-again off-again boyfriend. The very thought made him want to throw up. He took a deep breath to dispel his upset stomach and shook his head.

"Nobody's _drawing_ me in," Derek snapped. "I'm going to shower."

"Don't use my bathroom!" Laura called and Derek ignored her as he climbed the stairs. Laura and Derek shared the end of a hall and somehow, Laura had laid claim to the bathroom between their rooms years ago. It was ridiculous and petty but after countless dramatic battles, he'd decided locking her out and using the bathroom was more trouble than it was worth. And honestly, he had started to think of it as hers somewhere along the way.

Tonight, he slammed the door shut and flipped the lock. The bright orange chevron towel hanging on the back of the door slipped to the floor from the force of the slam and he made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat as he kicked it into a ball in the corner. Derek made another noise of disgust when he saw all the frilly, girly things she'd added to the room over the weeks since he'd been in here. For a second he was tempted to leave, but then he heard Laura pounding loudly on the door.

He smirked as his shirt hit the floor and he moved towards the shower.

The next day, Derek trailed after his family and followed slowly into the large meeting room. Everyone was already inside. There was a huge table with almost every single seat occupied. At the head of the table was his mother. Just beside her sat Peter, with an empty seat beside him. Laura was farther down the table, sitting between an older woman and a blonde-haired man who smirked at something she said and then turned to lock eyes with Derek. Mason. He nodded at Derek, who simply looked away and made his way over to the empty seat beside Peter.

Derek tuned out the formalities that always preceded the meat of these meetings. He perked up at the mention of the Lands. "They Argents are going against their own code," The woman next to Laura said. She stood up and there was a quiet murmur of agreement as she looked to Talia. "You said Reggie ratted his family out because they killed an Argent. Now, it's pretty clear what the Argents' motivation was to kill the rest of his family, but Reggie? They killed him in cold blood." She shook her head.

"He betrayed us!" A man further down the table asserted. He was short in stature and had grey hair that looked somewhat like a mullet, and Derek had always had little patience for the violent little man. "Reggie turned his own family over to be slaughtered. Who's to say he was so innocent? The truth is he actually helped his family kill that god damn hunter!"

"So you're suggesting he killed one of the Argents, and instead of gutting him and ripping him apart, they negotiated a deal?" The woman sneered and someone banged their fist on the table in agreement.

"No, I'm not _suggesting_. I'm _saying_ he killed one of them, they cornered him, and at the last second he offered them his entire pack in exchange for his own slimy, worthless life!" He spouted with a chorus of agreement from the majority of the room. "And they killed him anyways!"

"Alright, alright, everybody." Talia waved her hand and silence fell over them again. "Let's try to keep some semblance of civility, here."

Derek scratched the back of his head, thinking that despite his distaste for the man he was making a lot of sense. The man sat back in his chair with a great huff. More reluctantly, the woman settled down in her chair beside Laura who shot her a supportive look and focused on their mother.

"Do we have _proof_ Reggie killed an Argent?"

"Yeah," The man said. He leaned sideways in his chair to dig something out of his pocket. He deposited a knife that had the Argents' family crest on the hilt onto the table. It spun in a circle a few times before slowing to a stop. "That's their knife they stuck in my leg right before he killed the bastard. It was a close call. I was going to sponsor Reggie at the next meeting, but then..."

Derek felt a jolt of surprise at that and he locked eyes with Peter for a second before he caught himself and looked away.

"What happened?" Talia wanted to know, casting her gaze around the room like she could tell by sight alone if any of them were hiding more that they knew.

"Well, they caught up to him first, or he betrayed me," The man admitted. He shook his head regrettably. "Either way, it's a damn shame."

"And it just might have started a war," The woman from before said again. People murmured at that and Derek found he was sitting a little straighter in his seat.

"Let's everybody take a breath," Talia advised. "We cannot react instinctively. That's how we get in trouble. We have to stop and think it through."

"We all know the logical next step is to retaliate," Declared the most outspoken woman in the meeting. Laura leaned in beside her. Talia's face lost some of its stoicism and she was starting to look annoyed. Or maybe it was just Derek who could see that. Beside him, Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Okay, so it _wasn't_ just him. Whatever Derek expected when he agreed to come tonight, this wasn't it. War?

"Or is it to wait, to see what their next move is?" Talia countered. "If we make a move now, we're going in blind. We don't know what they know."

"We might not have time for one of your plans, Talia," The woman persisted. It was obvious that several of the other alphas in the room were itching to agree with her. They all shifted restlessly in their seats and Derek sighed to himself. "Sometimes the longer you wait, the more you leave yourself wide open. I don't want to be caught off guard like Reggie was."

"And neither do I. Very well." Talia dipped her chin in assent. "We will discuss this further Lilian, if you are sure."

"I'm sure," The woman, _Lilian_, assured.

"Onto the next bit of business then." Talia paused. "I'm told there are new members to your pack, Enzo?"

A tall man with a buzzcut who was so huge, the chair he was in looked like a child's chair sat up straight. "Yes, that's right, Talia."

And on it went. Derek's mind never strayed far from the Lands. From the red splatter of blood across the window. From the brewing war. From the girl back at their house who was an Argent close to dying from a bite. He pushed that neatly to the far corner of his mind and didn't revisit that thought, though it left a lingering restlessness within him. Occasionally, he closed his eyes and imagined that he was playing basketball again, reliving last year's championship game. Fourth quarter, end of the game, the ball is in their possession...

He cycled through these thoughts endlessly, late into the night. At around 3 AM he had gone down to the kitchen to rummage aimlessly through the cabinets and fridge for nothing in particular. A white styrofoam box sat on the middle shelf. It smelled like Chinese food. He pulled the package out and opened it. Inside, broccoli and chicken and rice—half eaten so that mostly it was just left overs.

Balancing the box in one hand, he shut the fridge. Derek gasped and the box went flying from his hand straight down to the floor, where it plummeted to its death. He cleared his throat and leveled a venomous glare at Jolene.

"What are you doing? Why are you standing like that?" He referred, of course, to the way she stood with her head tilted to the side and her hair hanging in long strands to curtain her face. He bristled and she let out a breath, her hair puffing out gently around her mouth.

Her eyes glowed a brilliant yellow and she made a guttural noise as her toes brushed the rice and broccoli spilled on the floor. Derek barely had time to let his claws come out before she was on him.

She charged him with surprising strength he was not prepared for. They bashed into the far cabinets and there was a sharp, explosive pain in his shoulders and back. He shoved her roughly off as fast as he could. Jolene rolled gracefully to her feet and spun in a crouch, a clawed hand out beside her like it was a weapon.

"Stop!" He no sooner shouted before she was on him again. Pain blossomed in his chest and he cried out as Jolene snarled atop him, lifting her hand above her head, her bright eyes locked on his throat.

Jolene's face was dotted with blood spatter and the sweat stained shirt she wore was now soaked in blood—_his_ blood—and he felt a cold streak of fear like a flash of lightning. Then she was ripped from him and flew across the room. The room seemed to shake from the force of Talia's roar and Jolene groaned in a heap of broken wood and glass in the cabinets. She went limp and Derek drew in a shuddering breath, his shaking hands touching the slick wet blood on his stomach and chest like it wasn't real.

"M-Mom," He choked. He looked up at her and Talia's face twisted like she felt his pain like it was her own.

"Don't talk," Talia said, her voice calm and unshaken. The sound was like a soothing balm to him and Derek felt tension leak away as Peter appeared over her shoulder, his face fierce. "Just stay still. Don't move."

The world went black and Derek's last thought was the way Jolene's eyes intently locked on his throat.

* * *

**_Maybe a couple reviews? I know this is different from most fics. Honestly I'm not sure people are really reading Teen Wolf fic anymore since the series is done..._**


	7. Chapter 7

"Who should have been watching her?" Demanded a voice so furious it trembled under the weight of her anger. At first no one answered. Then, "I said _who?_"

Jolene was conscious, but just barely. They'd chained her up to a wall. Her wrists were sore and she was dying for a drink of something—anything. She hadn't tasted anything since Derek helped her down that rancid mug of medicine. Her chest twinged painfully. _Derek_…

Was it medicine? Had it really made her _better?_ Because Jolene just felt worse. Her head still throbbed painfully and she had the worst tooth ache she'd ever experienced in her life and _God_ she would kill for some water. And then… _Derek_.

Sorrow was not a new emotion for Jolene, but this time it was different. Her sorrow went bone deep. And there was always the blame that followed, but usually it was directed at someone else—her mother, typically. This time the blame directed inwardly at herself, and when mixed with sorrow it combined into an entirely new lethal, potent poison that ate through her heart like hot water ate through snow. Was this… _guilt?_

No, it was too strong for that. Guilt is too simple. There was something more, too.

"Sh—She was passed out," Laura stammered. From her peripheral, Jolene could see that Laura didn't have that same cocky, overconfident appearance she usually did. Now she looked uncertain as she glanced back at an unfamiliar blonde man who was glaring fiercely at Jolene, his chest heaving. He looked ready to kill her on the spot. "I thought she was supposed to be dying!"

"Clearly not!" Peter shouted, and Laura flinched.

"I didn't know!" Laura's face twisted painfully and Jolene realized Laura's cheeks shone wet with tears. Another sharp pain twisted her heart as she realized just how scared Laura was. Scared because of _her_. "Mom, I—I swear if I had known this never would have happened."

"It never _should_ have happened," Talia snarled fiercely. She was a force to be reckoned with, intimidating at the best of times—but her son had just been attacked, so she evidently wasn't in a particularly reasonable mood. "I've tolerated this—this—whatever _this_ is," She made a disgusted motion between Mason and Laura. "For far too long. I told you it was interfering, that it was just a distraction and now _this_." She paused and struck the final blow. "Laura, you _know_ better. I'm very disappointed in you."

"Mason, you should go," Peter said. His voice was so calm now, it almost didn't register that he'd spoken at all. Then the blonde man looked to Laura for confirmation. She just stood helplessly and shook her head at the man, and he glared at Jolene.

"Fine," He said. "I'm going. But you should all remember who the enemy is. Because she's right over there, and she's chained up for now but how long before you're forced to let her go?" Mason shook his head and started towards the door. "That's a problem that needs _dealt_ with. Sooner, rather than later. Before someone else is hurt."

"Just go!" Peter said again, stepping into Jolene's line of vision to watch Mason leave the room.

"Laura, go check on Derek," Talia quietly said. She leaned over the table and her head cast a shadow that cloaked Jolene in darkness. "I'll handle this."

Laura looked like she wanted to see more. The absolute hate in her eyes when she sent Jolene one last glare was unexpected. Jolene waited to feel injustice, but it never came. Only guilt. And blame. Crippling blame.

No one said anything for a beat. Talia stayed hunched over the table, studying something there. Peter quietly hovered nearby. He traded his attention between Talia and Jolene. Whenever he focused on Jolene, she felt…exposed. The hatred in his face made Laura look more like a petulant toddler, angry because you got away with stealing her favorite crayons and somehow _she_ got in trouble for it. Peter looked… creepy.

Unsettled, she closed her eyes against the throbbing pain in her head and tried to wipe the dried blood from her fingers on her shirt. It came away in flakes and clung stubbornly to her skin. She wished she could say she didn't remember, but she did. She wished she could say it wasn't her, but it _was_. It was her who woke in the room, alone. The door was ajar. She was thirsty, so she followed the smell of food to the kitchen, passing through the quiet house like a ghost.

She could hear the Hale family like they were playing their lives out on a TV that was turned down almost to its lowest setting. Talia had been in a room on the ground floor, the soft sound of classical music intermingling with the sound of liquid poured into a glass. Cora was in a room almost on the highest level of the house, the sound of a documentary about the ocean playing quietly coupled with the sound of her soft, even breaths.

Laura was in a room next door. The door had been shut and she heard giggling followed by a playful growl, soft fabric hitting the floor, and as she passed the frame her feet cast shadows from the light that escaped under the door into the dark hall.

She found Derek in the kitchen and what happened next was… new. Jolene didn't feel ready to explore that part of herself yet. She couldn't revisit the toxic anger and hatred that coursed through her. The blame was directed at _them_, all of them, and she wanted someone to _pay_. She felt powerful enough to accomplish that for the first time and…

The shame was almost too much to bear. Jolene expelled a shaky breath, her chest tight.

Growing up, Jolene had read fairytales like most other children did. Her mother had given her a compilation of them. At least, that's what she thought it was at the time. That's how her mom read the bestiary to her, too.

She used different voices on different creatures. Kanimas had an amphibian sort of growl and spoke in broken, incomplete sentences. Nogitsunes imitated everyone else's voice. And werewolves… had that classic, evil monster voice that she was raised not to fear, but to hate. She was taught that they were ruthless, that if allowed, they lived without conscience or consequence. They took what they wanted when they wanted, did whatever they wanted.

And it was true, wasn't it? Or at least it _could_ be true. She felt that in herself tonight.

"No one hates to admit this more than I do, Talia, but Mason has an annoying habit of being right." Peter approached the table Talia was at and Talia snorted derisively.

"Even a broken clock is right twice a day," She muttered. Talia flipped through the pages of a book, and Jolene's eyes fluttered as the heavy weight of exhaustion crept upon her. "Just go, Peter. I need time to think."

"I'm not going anywhere—"

"Peter," Talia firmly interrupted. Her tone was final. She leveled a warning look at her brother. "Just _go_."

"Is that really a good idea?" His eyes were on Jolene, and Talia scoffed.

"Brother, please. I can handle a fledgling."

Jolene blinked at the term. She'd never heard that werewolves described new members as a fledgling before. Jolene didn't have time to consider this because Peter continued. "She's _not_ just any fledgling, Talia. You know that."

Talia sighed and sank into a stool that Jolene hadn't even noticed. Talia rested her chin on her hand. "She's my responsibility."

That thought was far from comforting. Jolene felt like a ticking bomb and she knew the Hales thought of her much the same. "Don't be ridiculous, Talia. We can handle her together."

Talia held up a tired hand. "I can handle her tonight. Go check on my son."

"_You_ should—"

Talia's head snapped up and Jolene couldn't see the look she shot Peter, but his mouth clamped shut and he spared Jolene one last hateful glare before he left.

* * *

Another day passed before they felt comfortable enough to let her out of her chains. Dried blood make her skin sticky and she felt grimy and greasy. No one said anything about Derek to her. No one said much of anything to her. Jolene longed for a shower, so she was grateful when Talia indicated that was their first order of business.

As it turned out, they didn't have to travel far. There was a bathroom with a rather large shower in the basement they were in. Jolene didn't even look at the mirror as she stripped down. She was careful to avoid the mirror for the whole time she was in there. She turned the water hot enough that it scalded her skin, and then made quick work of cleaning herself. Jolene pushed Talia's generosity as far as she could. She spent at least twenty extra minutes in the shower, just watching the water swirl around the drain and letting the water beat relentlessly against her tender skin. Finally, she heard a knock at the door, and after lingering just a moment longer she turned the water off and stepped out.

Steam billowed into the basement as she emerged. Peter was there, and so was Laura. Jolene blinked in surprise as she watched Cora's reaction when she caught sight of her. Cora froze, bristled, and like a spooked cat she flew to the stairs and escaped without another sound. Jolene kept replaying the expression on her face.

Jolene felt another wave of sorrow crash over her. She was tired. _So_ tired.

"Take her now," Talia said to Laura.

It was the last thing the older girl wanted to do, that much was clear. Laura let her head fall back and rolled her eyes at the ceiling, taking a moment. Then she cleared her throat and strode to the stairs without a backward glance. Jolene looked at Talia who raised an eyebrow at her and Peter leaned across the table to level a look at her. "This is where you follow her," He said, pointing up the stairs with two fingers.

He didn't budge from that position, his eyes tracking her every movement along with Talia's as Jolene trailed hesitantly behind Laura. Jolene heard Peter snort and Talia sigh in the room below them, and she cleared it from her mind as she focused on where they were headed.

The house was quiet and empty. She reached up to scratch at her eyebrow when they stepped into the sunlight. The ground outside was damp and it smelled like rain. Jolene shielded the morning sun from her eyes. Laura didn't say a word as she led her down the back porch, across the pavement of the long driveway and onto a dirt road that started behind their house.

Tall trees stood on either side of the road like sentinels, their branches reaching up to the sun and out at them as they past. Jolene marveled at how loud nature was. She could hear birds everywhere, tittering and chirping to each other as they flew from tree to tree and swooped to catch food or sticks for nests. The wind carried a bevy of scents that distracted her so much, Jolene hardly paid attention to just how far they hiked.

Then they came to a small trail that led off the road. Laura turned to her, and said, "This trail is over 200 acres long. It leads a path all the way around our property." She looked down at the converse on Jolene's feet and the corner of her mouth twitched like she wanted to smirk. Then, lifting a finger, she pointed down the path. "Go."

Jolene stared blankly at her. "...Go?"

Laura waved her hand impatiently. "Yes, _go_." Jolene didn't budge. Ire flashed in Laura's brown eyes. "Do I really have to spell this out for you? Run!"

Jolene's mouth twisted with distaste. She was not a runner. Never had been. Laura started towards her and Jolene sprang into action, moving falteringly towards the path. Laura herded her to the start of the path and Jolene was sure to keep about 10 feet between them at all times, but the faster Laura moved, the faster she had to move. For a second it felt like she was chasing her.

Jolene stumbled over a root on the path and she was forced to face completely forward. The sound of footsteps behind her egged her on, and before she knew it, Laura was actually chasing her. She ran faster than she knew she could, her heart pounding heavily in her chest—but not because she was out of breath—because Laura was in hot pursuit behind her.

It went on for some time like that, and they ran until her lungs burned so bad she thought they would dry up. Her head spun and she thought this must be runner's high. She bent and grabbed her knees. Laura stiffly bumped into her, and Jolene just barely managed to keep from toppling to the hard ground. She stumbled aside and asked Laura what her problem was.

"Oh, I don't think it's wise to get smart with me right now," Laura told her, barely even winded. "You have no idea what you did last night."

She knew exactly what happened. She'd _hurt_ Derek, badly. She'd caused a rift between Laura and her mother. She'd exposed her little affair or whatever she and that man Mason had going. Laura had plenty of reason to hate her right now, so instead of giving her even more ammunition, she held her hands up in surrender and turned to continue running.

Jolene knew better than to ask how long she was supposed to run for. The sun climbed across the sky, morning turned to afternoon, afternoon to evening. It was late and Jolene's legs had surpassed jelly and it wasn't until they literally gave beneath her that she was allowed to stop.

Her palms were scratched and she wiped the dirt and blood on her shorts. Laura was panting heavily by now, and she brushed around Jolene to lead the way back to the house. She took a deep breath and climbed to her feet. Jolene looked back to her hands and stumbled to a halt when she saw they were dirty but otherwise unmarred.

She blinked at the sight, flexing her hands to test them.

"Move it!" Laura barked.

Back at the house, Cora sat in the kitchen. Repairs were already underway. The Hales wasted no time and apparently they were well versed in repairing damage to their property. A new set of cabinets had been put in, all that was left was to attach doors to them. A box of the doors sat in a corner off to the side. Cora was studying the sight when they entered.

Fear struck Cora's visage the moment she saw Jolene. Again, she darted from the room like a cat without ever uttering a single word, and yet, her reaction spoke volumes. Laura shot Jolene a death-glare yet again and Jolene stayed quiet, lingering near the door. Laura retrieved two waters and tossed one at Jolene without looking.

Jolene had been picking at her nails and yet somehow still managed to catch the bottle just inches before it plowed into her face. Laura sneered at her and Jolene suppressed the first flicker of annoyance at how Laura was treating her. She told herself she deserved it, after what she'd done. And it was true.

They'd decided to leave her in her room again, this time with Peter standing guard outside, and the second Jolene's head hit the pillow she was out like a light. The day's exercise had sapped every drop of energy she had.

* * *

Two more days of this passed. Laura dragged her through the property forwards, backwards and in wild, difficult to manage patterns. Jolene had the entire property memorized like she had a map right in front of her face. Gerard would be pleased.

She'd neither seen nor heard one thing about Derek since the night she attacked him. She honestly hoped he was okay, but she was sure the Hales were keeping him as far from her as possible just as she was equally sure he had healed. He was probably pissed off and humiliated she'd gotten the jump on him, and honestly, she wasn't exactly eager to see him any time soon. Besides, she was too busy dealing with the consequences of her actions.

The only two people she ever saw for more than two seconds were Laura, who she had started to suspect was on baby-sitting duty with her as punishment, and Peter, who stood guard outside her room each night while she slept.

"People are starting to ask about you at school," Laura told her one evening after they had finished their run. She lifted a bottle of water to her lips and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "We're going to have to let you go back."

"When?" Jolene frowned, thinking of all the make-up work she'd have to do.

"Tomorrow." Laura drained the remaining contents of her water bottle. "But there will be rules."

Jolene remained standing like always, right by the door, rooted uncomfortably to the floor because she couldn't relax enough to assume she was welcome to sit anywhere in the house except her designated prison, aka bedroom. "Rules?" She asked, while Laura took a seat at the island and sat back in the chair with a long breath.

Laura stretched her legs out, wincing at some muscle that pulled the wrong way in her calf. "Derek is going to be with you every second of every day."

_Every second of every day. _Jolene's heart skipped a beat and she felt picked at the plastic label on her water bottle nervously. "I don't know if that's the best plan."

"Um, I don't recall that this was a discussion," Laura snapped. "You don't have a choice."

She was right, of course. Jolene chose not to respond and quietly considered whether Derek had a choice in this either. Not likely. "What about practice?"

"Basketball practice is an hour and a half after school is out. I meant he would be with you every second of school, not literally every second of every day."

"I meant boxing practice." Jolene took a drink of water and Laura made a face.

"Derek doesn't kick-box—" She broke off, her mouth hanging open slightly. Laura studied Jolene closely, who was careful to make sure her expression didn't change. She resisted the urge to pick at the label on her water again. "Really?" Laura looked Jolene over, from her head to her toes. Then she snorted. "Whatever. That's up to you guys. Isn't that after school too?"

"No, I have a free period before lunch and there's this gym—"

Laura held her hand up to silence her. "Ah uh. I don't care. You two will have to figure it out."

Jolene expelled a breath and chewed her lip thoughtfully. Laura side-eyed her again and snorted, shaking her head to herself.

* * *

**_Review, please?_**


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